


The Swinging Weight of Love

by Chash



Series: Better Ways to Be Alive [3]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen, Urban Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-26
Updated: 2018-10-26
Packaged: 2019-08-07 16:06:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16411637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chash/pseuds/Chash
Summary: Madi adjusts in the weeks before her twelfth birthday.





	The Swinging Weight of Love

**Author's Note:**

> Every time I post another one of these, my wife is like, oh good, now I can read it! And then I tell her it's not actually done. But this one is shorter? I don't really have a plan here guys I'm just enjoying the domestic witchcraft.

Madi wakes up on Monday morning with _two_ kittens on her, which is good for waking up but terrible for getting out of bed. It's not like getting up for school is fun to begin with, and with two protesting kittens telling her not to, it's basically the least appealing thing in the world. 

Well, the _second_ least appealing--she _really_ doesn't want to make Clarke come get her. So she drags herself out of bed despite the kittens' sleepy protests, gives them both scratches on the head before she pulls on pajama bottoms and heads downstairs. As always, Clarke is already behind the island fiddling with the coffee maker, scowling a little at the machine. Madi flashes her a quick smile on her way to gather eggs and Clarke her face clears into an easy smile.

It's such a normal morning that Madi can't quite believe it. Saturday night is still looming large in her mind, pushing its way into her brain when there's nothing else to fill it, but the world just keeps going on like it was nothing. Clarke is certainly acting like it was nothing. 

And maybe it was, to her. She's not hurt or anything. It was just that one heart-stopping moment, when she choked out for Bellamy to use the ward, when Madi thought the magic might kill her. And it didn't, obviously; she's fine, and everything had a happy ending. 

But how many witches don't make it through that? How many wander into places with magic because they feel something weird and don't know any better? Clarke and Bellamy were acting like this was no big deal, and she thinks she understands why, but it also really _isn't_ a big deal. To them, it's over and done with.

"How did you sleep?" Clarke asks, when she comes back inside with the eggs.

"Okay. The kittens decided to sleep with me, that was nice."

Clarke smiles, cracks the eggs into the pan and starts scrambling them with her spatula as her magic watches and makes sure she doesn't screw anything up. "Good."

"What will your magic look like?" Madi asks. "Or feel like, I guess? I don't know. When I get my powers, will I be able to tell you're a witch? Will I sense it?"

"Yes and no," Clarke says, with a smile like she knows exactly how annoying that is, as an answer. "It's not exactly safe to be giving off visible witch vibes, at least according to Gram. There are glyphs--I know, I know, more glyphs, I have a whole dictionary--that keep your magic from calling attention to itself. Like--the magic in Monty's store, right?"

Madi shivers a little, but Clarke doesn't notice. "Yeah."

"That was unbound magic. Wild magic. It was--" She huffs. "Sorry, I'm doing my best, but so much of this is stuff I talked about with Bellamy so long ago I don't even think about it anymore. It's just--how it is."

"It's okay."

"Magic that hasn't been bound leaks. My magic senses it, and it tells me, so I sense it. But that magic couldn't sense me until we were close to it--until we got in the basement. That's because I have a glyph tattooed on my back to bind my magic, so other people won't sense me. Gram said it was safer."

Madi thinks it over. "How did the dog know about you? The one that followed you around?"

Clarke shrugs. "Honestly? We still don't know. It could sense me but not Gram, and she didn't know why." She pauses. "She told me I probably messed up with my glyph one day, but I know I didn't. She just didn't like admitting she was over her head."

"So stuff could find me even if I'm warded."

The words slip out and Clarke notices this time, turning to give her a sharp look. "It could," she admits. "Like I said, I'm not an expert. I don't know everything. But if something happens, me and Bellamy will help."

"What if you can't? What if it's like the basement and I'm--"

"Hey," says Clarke, gentle. She leaves the stove entirely, comes to put her arm around Madi. It's the first time she's done that, the first time _anyone_ has done that to Madi in a long time, and part of her wants to bristle because the last time it was some uncle who was trying to make her feel like part of the family, when all he really made her feel was gross. But this is natural, easy; this is Clarke, trying to help, and it _does_ help.

Madi lets herself cling.

"I'm sorry," she goes on, voice still soft. "I didn't know it scared you so much. I guess I should have, but--I don't think the magic would have killed me."

"But that was just luck, right?"

"No, it wasn't. If Bellamy hadn't been there, it would have been worse, maybe harder for me to deal with, but I could have dealt with it. And Bellamy being there wasn't just luck, either. All the stuff we had wasn't luck. We spent the whole day getting ready. We should have been more careful when we went in, but we were trying to show you that it was boring."

She pulls away to make a face. "What?"

"Sorry! Just--I didn't want you to go around looking for trouble because you thought it was exciting or cool. And it's mostly not, it's just kind of routine. But I forget that before it was routine, it was scary. So--you be honest with me when you're scared, and I'll be honest with you about how scared I think you should be."

"And you don't think I should be scared."

"Not most of the time," says Clarke. "Sometimes, scary stuff happens. But if you come to me and Bellamy, we'll help. You just need to come to us."

"You're really worried I won't."

"I didn't," she points out. "I went to Bellamy instead of my grandmother before I even _liked_ Bellamy."

Madi doesn't totally buy that, but she doesn't want to object either. Obviously she wasn't there back when they were in high school, but she sort of wonders if Clarke didn't like Bellamy the way Madi didn't like Ethan in her fourth grade class. Officially, they didn't get along, but she was really _aware_ of him, all the time. If she'd had a good excuse to talk to him, to become friends with him, she would have taken it.

But she doubts Clarke would tell her if that _was_ what was happening, so instead she says, "Well, you thought he could help."

"I did. So unless Jordan or Gaia has some skills we don't know about--"

"I don't know about them either, if they do. I'd ask you," she says, feeling a little silly. It's weird that Clarke needs reassurance, but maybe not actually surprising. Madi can't be sure she _would_ have gone to Clarke before this. Not even out of any kind of deliberate distrust, just--she's used to doing things on her own, and used to solving her own problems.

She probably still won't go to Clarke with _all_ her problems. But witch problems? She's not messing with those.

"I might not have before, though," she adds, since she's being honest anyway, and Clarke smiles.

" _Don't tell adults what's going on_ is all over kids' books about magic," she says. "But the older you get, the more you realize it's usually either narrative convenience or adults being assholes. So--we'll try not to be assholes, and you should come to us."

"Okay." She lets out a breath, gives Clarke a somewhat shaky smile. "You're really lucky you have magic, or the eggs would have burned the house down."

"Shit," says Clarke. "And you're going to be late for school. _Shit_. I'll drive you. Just eat fast, okay?"

Her smile strengthens and evens out. "Okay," she says. "Got it."

*

Part of Madi was wondering if Clarke would offer to let her take the day off of school, hoping for it and dreading it in equal measures. Like most kids, she'll take a day off from school without question, as a matter of principle, but she mostly likes school, and especially likes school in Eden. It's not that their school is better than her old ones, or even particularly different, but that's part of what she likes about it. No matter where she goes, it's pretty much the same, and she's gotten pretty good at dealing with it. And no matter how weird home is, school is school.

Plus she has actual friends going into school this year, which is different. She usually finds people sooner or later, but it's always later than everyone else, always out of step. And that's when she gets to start at the beginning of the year, which is rare enough. 

Jordan and Gaia do have other friends, but as neighbors, they spend more time with each other than anyone else, and their other friends accept Madi as a natural extension of that. They have a place for her at the lunch table and on the bus, let her join them for group projects, invite her to their study sessions and to hang out on the weekends. It's all very ordinary aside from the witch thing, and even the witch thing becomes more ordinary in the weeks leading to Madi's birthday. It really does feel like just another part of Clarke and Bellamy's lives, the reason Clarke's bathtub never needs scrubbing and Bellamy always has an army of animals surrounding him. It might not be everyone's normal, but it's _their_ normal.

And the closer her birthday gets, the more Madi feels like it can be her normal too. It's not a totally comforting feeling, if she's honest; there's a part of her that still frets, that still distrusts the whole thing, a part that's waiting for Clarke to turn against her, sacrifice her, turn bad somehow. 

Her guard wants to come down, and she's still not letting it go all the way.

Her birthday is a Sunday this year, and she and Clarke spend the day before preparing charms. Clarke has a list of ones that Madi is allowed to have and lets her pick a few to make up, the ones she wants to have most and soonest. The first is the one that keeps her power in check, the most important charm there is, and the second is the one that will glow when she touches it after she has her powers.

"It's an introduction," Clarke explains, watching as Madi carefully copies the correct glyphs onto her paper. "You're saying hi to your magic, and the charm glowing is the magic saying hi back. Once that's done, you can tell it to do other things. None of your other charms will work before you've touched that one."

"And it can tell us to do things too, right? Like when it told you about the magic in Monty's store."

"It didn't tell me what to do," Clarke points out. "It warned me there was something we needed to deal with. It didn't make me do anything. And I don't make it do things either. We make requests, and it fulfills them, as long as we make the requests right."

She finishes off the greeting charm and holds it up for Clarke's approval. After her nod, she asks, "Why does it do stuff for us? What does it get out of it?"

"I don't know the real answer to that. But I think magic likes to be used, needed. That's why it tethers itself to things, and why it gets weird when it's tethered in the wrong place. Our magic tethers itself to us, and what we give it is--that. We ground it, let it follow us around and be useful. That's what it needs."

"Does it bug you that you'll never be sure?" Madi asks.

"I don't know that I'll _never_ be sure. I'm just not sure now. What next?"

If Clarke is suspicious of Madi's list of charms, she's not mentioning it. All of her choices could serve her well here, but she really picked them in case Clarke decides to get rid of her before she has the chance to make any more. A charm to muffle sound, for if she ends up back in a noisy foster home. A charm that will keep anyone from being able to read what she's writing, a charm to alert her to people sneaking up on her, charms that will protect her privacy no matter where she goes. 

If this is all she gets from her powers, it'll be nice. She could live with just those three little spells. But she'd rather stay here and learn more.

"What charms did you make?" she asks Clarke as she works. "Before your birthday."

"One to wake me up in the morning, obviously." Madi laughs, and Clarke grins. "I still use that one. One to let me know when my parents were coming up the stairs. My room was in the attic, so if they were coming all the way up it was to talk to me, and I wanted to be ready. And one to let me talk to Gram. Nothing very complicated, pretty much just an emergency signal that told her I needed help. I never used it because I always convinced myself what was happening wasn't _that_ bad, but you should have one too, just in case."

"All your stories feel like they end with you telling me not to be like you."

"It was complicated for me," she says, with a sigh. "She was my grandmother. She was too strict and wasn't always great with kids. I loved her, but she didn't see me as an equal and I knew it. I don't see you as an equal either," she adds, to Madi's surprise. "You're twelve, you shouldn't have to be an equal. But I felt like Gram didn't take me seriously, so I'm going to try to take you seriously."

As with most of the things Clarke explains, it makes sense to Madi, even if she doesn't know how exactly to feel about it. 

"So if I have an emergency--"

"If you need to talk to me, you can use the charm," Clarke says. "It doesn't have to be an emergency. It doesn't have to be a big deal. If you use that, I'll come and find you, wherever you are, as soon as I can. If I get there and it turns out whatever happened wasn't actually urgent, I won't be mad. I'll just be glad you were willing to call me."

She lets herself think about being taken away from Clarke--not being thrown away, but something else happening. Clarke being declared unfit or something. In that world, she can picture herself calling Clarke, and Clarke coming for her, just like she said. If she needed her, she can see Clarke coming, whether Madi's her legal responsibility or not.

It's not the worst thing to imagine.

*

Bellamy shows up for dinner with four cats, three neatly wrapped packages, and a cake box, which Madi wasn't expecting.

"You know my birthday is tomorrow, right?" she asks as the kittens twine around his legs and meow at the cats who have come with him.

"I know. But tomorrow you're going to be doing witch stuff, so we're celebrating tonight when you're not distracted. We got you cool presents and we don't want them to get ignored."

"We?"

"Clarke sucks at wrapping gifts and hasn't been able to figure out how to make her magic do it for her, so I wrap everything. It's all from both of us. And I baked a cake."

"Just because I wanted it to be a surprise," says Clarke. "I'm good at baking."

Bellamy inclines his head, giving this due consideration. "As long as nothing goes wrong."

"Things going wrong are by definition going to screw things up."

"Clarke likes measuring," Bellamy explains. "But as soon as she has to make a subjective judgement--"

"As long as it has a clear goal," Clarke grumbles. "Beat egg whites to a stiff point? Sure, I can do that. How am I supposed to just guess how long it takes something to get tender? Or add salt _to taste_?"

He smirks and then turns his attention back to Madi. "Anyway, she makes good cakes, but I made this one. And I'm taking over dinner."

Clarke already asked Madi what she wanted for a birthday dinner, so Bellamy's working with pork chops and mashed potatoes, although, as usual, he's embellishing. Madi helps, watching the food come together under his fingers, the most impressive magic she's seen that isn't _real_ magic, but her attention keeps straying, eyes wandering over to the three presents on the island.

If she's honest, there was a part of her that was expecting more, which makes her stomach squirm. It's not like she _needs_ a giant pile of presents. Clarke hasn't even known her that long, and she's doing plenty for her already. She already got a kitten--two kittens, even--and a home and magic powers. She doesn't need toys too.

But she thought it might be like waking up on Christmas morning in movies and TV shows, this giant pile of _things_ , all for her.

Instead, there are just three boxes, neatly wrapped in tissue paper. The smallest is done in green paper with gold ribbon, square, about an inch thick, not the right shape for a book but around the same size. The second is purple with silver ribbon, a little thicker and larger, rectangular, maybe a _big_ book, and the last is black with silver and gold ribbon and looks like many gifts of clothing she's gotten, welcome but not particularly exciting.

Well, of course it's _exciting_. She just thought Clarke might want to make more of a statement than a couple books and a new coat.

But dinner is amazing, even moreso than usual, and Clarke gets twelve rainbow candles for her cake--confetti with strawberry frosting, which she asked for, with a cat made of chocolate frosting on top, which she didn't but loves anyway--and she and Bellamy sing "Happy birthday" and everything.

 _I wish we do this again next year_ , Madi thinks, and blows out every candle.

"Okay, this one first," says Clarke, picking up the smallest package. "It's the least exciting."

"Hey, you're biasing her," Bellamy teases. "Let Madi decide."

She unwraps the present slowly, untying the bow and trying not to rip the delicate paper. It's a futile gesture, but Clarke and Bellamy don't call her out, don't tell her to hurry. She gets the paper off as intact as possible and sets it aside, gives the ribbon to the kittens to play with.

The box is plain white, a little like a jewelry box, but there's no necklace inside. Instead, it's two collars, each woven with a cat's name: _Cucurbita_ and _Conditura_ , in gold on black collars. They're lovely little things, and both the tags have _her_ name on them: Madi Arnold, 56 Maple St, Eden, MA.

"They're enchanted," says Clarke. "To protect from fleas and ticks. I know they're more for the cats, but--"

"No, they're great." She swallows, throat tight. Of course, Clarke could just get new tags. But--they're _Madi's_. Her name is right there.

"Okay, this one next," says Bellamy, handing her the clothing box for the same slow unwrapping process.

When she takes the lid off of this, a pointy black hat pops up, making her laugh in surprise. There's a black dress under it, and a package of "witch makeup," green facepaint and fake warts.

Clarke grins. "For Halloween."

"Uh huh."

"Sometimes I like to wear a hat when I do stuff in pots. It makes me feel like a real witch."

"And that's what she dresses up as for Halloween."

"The kids love it."

"Yeah, Jordan will freak if I wear this. Thanks," she adds, smiling. She's not sure it's less exciting than the collars, but it is _for_ her in a way the collars weren't. And it's cute.

"Happy witch day." Clarke hands over the last box, and Madi's so sure it's going to be a book in there that she nearly drops it when she sees an _iPad_.

"What?" she asks, blank.

"What?" asks Clarke.

It's a mini, still in its original packaging, and Madi's fingers trace over the image on the front. She'd thought about quantity, but she'd also been thinking about smaller things. Not one big present. "This is too much."

"It's not. Bellamy wanted to buy you thirty billion books and I don't have room. This was a compromise: we just got you a bunch of ebooks."

Her eyes jerk up. "You got books for me too?"

"And a gift certificate for the iTunes store." Bellamy's smile is soft. "So you can get some stuff of your own."

"You didn't have to."

Clarke puts her arm around Madi's shoulders. "We can afford it, and we wanted to. That way--even if you ever decide to leave, you can take that with you. Another advantage over thirty billion books."

Madi's mouth opens and closes a few times as her mind sorts through all the things she could say. "Thank you," is what comes out, at last, her mouth dry.

"You're welcome," says Clarke, giving her a squeeze. "Cake?"

It takes some effort to pull her eyes away from the iPad box, but, well, _cake_. And the iPad apparently isn't going anywhere.

"Cake," she agrees. "Cake sounds great."

*

The iPad is almost distracting enough that Madi doesn't actually think about getting her powers for the rest of the night. Bellamy is terrible with technology, so Clarke does most of the setup, with Bellamy and Madi watching with some awe. The two of them bought her a _two-hundred dollar_ giftcard too, which feels like an unreal amount, but Bellamy points out that music eats up cash, so she shouldn't just blow through it. He and Clarke made her a Kindle account full of their favorite stories about kids with powers, most of which Madi's never even heard of. She's read the _Harry Potter_ series, but the Kindle app is packed with unfamiliar authors and titles, treasures waiting to be discovered.

"The Tiffany Aching books are closest to what being a witch is actually like," Clarke says, pointing at something called _The Wee Free Men_. "And then _Wild Magic_ for what Bellamy has, but cooler, because Daine gets to turn into animals too."

"Daine's definitely cooler than I am," Bellamy agrees. "But I'd start with the Pratchett, that's got some good tips." He leans over her shoulder. "And games, you definitely need some games."

Clarke sends her up to bed at eleven, later than usual, with a strict lights-out of eleven-thirty, and Madi doesn't realize until the next morning that if she'd stayed up half an hour later, she might have already had her magic.

Then again, she wouldn't have been able to get to sleep if she'd thought about that. She definitely wouldn't have been able to sleep if she'd checked her powers at midnight; she would have been up all night.

The iPad might have been a strategic choice, and it definitely worked.

When she does wake up, though, magic is all she can think about. Like Clarke said, she doesn't _feel_ any different; she's the same Madi Arnold who went to bed last night, no older or more special, just one day older. But the charm is on her bedside table and it starts to glow the second she touches it, blue and strangely warm, like a new friend.

"Hi," she murmurs, and the color pulses a little, like the magic is listening to her. "I'm Madi."

It does feel different, now. Not like she's grown up, but--it's _real_. It happened. She picks up her muffling charm, completing the glyph with her finger like Clarke taught her, and birdsong outside softens and dies, silence wrapping around her like a blanket.

She smiles down at the glowing charm. "I'm your witch."


End file.
